this is for saying yes
by Cheeky Slytherin Lass
Summary: In which Max Polkiss takes in his cousin Piers despite the sacrifices he has to make.:: for Lo


_For Lo via GGE. _

_Word Count: 4253_

* * *

i.

Max has just finished his shift at the deli when the woman finds him. There's been an accident involving a family member–some uncle he maybe remembers from family reunions when he was younger. Max thinks he remembers seeing something in the paper about it, but he hadn't given it much thought at all.

"Normally we wouldn't contact a cousin" the woman explains, adjusting her glasses and twisting her perfectly painted red lips into a bright smile, "but we're having a bit of trouble placing Piers."

Max nods, understanding sinking in. He's still just a kid himself, only twenty-three. What business does he have taking in a kid?

"No one else has been willing to take him in," she continues before Max can decline. "I'm afraid that our next option is foster care."

He swallows dryly. Though Max has never had to deal with the foster care system, he's heard stories about it, and it makes him uneasy. He hesitates, pushing a hand through his dark curls. "He'll go in the system if I don't take him in," he says.

"I'm afraid so. But please don't feel pressured!"

But that's the thing, isn't it? Now he knows that this kid's future is in his hands. This cousin is nothing short of a stranger, but Max feels bound to him. How can he just turn his back on him, knowing he could give him a better life?

Max sighs heavily, realizing what it would mean. As it stands, he's about two years away from owning his own bakery. Kids are expensive, and his savings will dwindle until there's nothing left. Is he really ready for that sort of sacrifice?

"I know it's a big decision," the woman continues. "You don't have to decide right now. Go home and think it ov–"

"How do I start?"

…

His boyfriend isn't happy. Jeremy paces the length of the living room, green eyes wild. "What the hell were you thinking, Max?" he demands, coming to a stop directly in front of Max.

Max swallows dryly. Jeremy has always been good to him; this sudden flicker of fear and panic is unwarranted. Just because Jeremy's hands are clenched into fists, and all kindness is erased from his eyes, doesn't mean he'll actually do anything.

Somehow, Max manages to stand tall, though he's trembling inside. "He's family," he says simply.

Jeremy scoffs. "Yeah? Family you've never met. You really going to throw this away for some kid?"

_Throw this away. _Max gasps, eyes widening as he makes sense of the question. He and Jeremy are pretty close to serious. They've been together for two years, and they've always been so happy. Is this really such a dealbreaker?

Jeremy's face softens. He moves closer, resting a hand on Max's arm. "Look, Maxie," he says sweetly, "just call the broad up and tell her you've made a mistake. He'll spend some time in foster care, but that may be for the best. What do you know about raising a kid?"

For a moment, Max listens. Jeremy is absolutely right. He is completely clueless and hopeless, and it's ridiculous to entertain the idea.

Except that maybe it isn't. He's never met this kid, but he can change his life. How can Max walk away from that sort of opportunity?

"I'm sorry," Max says, though he isn't really sorry at all. "I'm doing this."

A dry laugh escapes Jeremy's lips. He scrubs his hand over his close-cropped blond hair. "You'll be doing this alone." He shrugs. "I didn't sign up for a kid."

It's terrifying, really. Max has always assumed Jeremy would stay by his side, that he would be _the one. _They've been carefully building their future together. He had hoped Jeremy would be there with him during this. Maybe he should have at least asked him before making such a huge decision, but it doesn't matter. Deep down, Max knows it would always be like this.

"I would like you to have your stuff out by Friday," Max says, and it's a miracle his voice doesn't betray his nerves.

ii.

They tell him that Piers has been abused and neglected, but Max is prepared for this. The seven-year-old boy is tall for his age, and too damn thin. Delicate wrist bones poke out from beneath his skin. Max can see bruises that have faded to yellow, and at least half a dozen visible scars.

He tries to remember his uncle. Surely he would recall meeting such a terrible monster. Nothing comes to mind.

"Hey," he says, offering the kid a bright smile, though he's terrified already, all too aware of how easily he could mess this up.

Piers looks up at him with wide, tearful eyes. He doesn't speak, but he nods his head ever so slightly to acknow that Max has spoken.

"I'm Max." He swallows, but the lump in his throat won't fade. "Do you want to see your room?"

Another small nod. Max wonders if Piers is able to speak. He doesn't ask, doesn't push it. Instead, he leads the way through the house, pointing out key rooms as needed.

"And this is your room," Max says, opening the door.

It isn't much. For years, he had used it as a guest bedroom for any of his friends who were too drunk to drive home. He's added a few touches now. The sheets are blue, because he's certain that's what boys are supposed to like, though he's always found it silly that colors can be gendered. A few toys and games are arranged in a neat pile. He doesn't know what kids like; he only hopes Piers will enjoy them.

Piers looks around, thin arms wrapping around himself. "This is mine?" he asks.

"Of course. All yours."

"You won't make me sleep outside, will you?"

Max stares at him, jaw slack as he tries to understand the question. "Did… Did your mum and dad make you sleep outside?"

Piers nods. "When I wet the bed," he answers. "It was snowing, so they let me sleep in the garage."

"Jesus Christ…" Max pinches the bridge of his nose. He wishes his aunt and uncle were still alive. He's never been a violent person, but he would happily make an exception for them.

"I won't wet the bed!" Piers says quickly. "I promise."

Max kneels so that he's eye level with his younger cousin. He takes a deep breath. "Look. I promise I'm not going to hurt you," he says. "I understand that accidents happen, okay? We're going to figure this out together."

Piers doesn't answer straight away. He stares at his tattered and torn trainers, awakrdly shifting his weight from foot to foot. Finally, he nods. "'Kay."

Max grins and affectionately ruffles Piers' short hair. "Wanna help me bake some cookies?"

…

They sit together in the living room, Chinese takeaway boxes on the table for the taking. Max nibbles at his sesame chicken, frowning as he considers the setup. He and Jeremy had never been formal. Meals would always be eaten in the living, with the telly going. It's normal to him.

But is it good for Piers? Should he finally use his dining room table as something other than a magazine and coat holder?

"Do you have a girlfriend?" Piers asks suddenly, pulling Max out of his thoughts.

"No. I'm gay."

"I thought gay people were bad," Piers says. "That's what Dad told me."

Max exhales deeply and shakes his head. Maybe it's for the best that he can't remember his uncle well at all. He had a strange feeling that they wouldn't get along. "Do I seem bad to you?" he asks.

Piers shakes his head.

"Then I guess gay people aren't so bad, huh?"

"Guess not."

Max watches as Piers picks at his food. The kid keeps glancing up with fearful eyes between little bites. Max wonders exactly how much trauma his cousin has been through. How much of the damage is permanent? Is there anything Max can do?

"Are you full?" Max asks.

"I have to finish my plate," Piers says. "If I don't…"

He doesn't finish his sentence, and Max can't help but feel relieved. Max is afraid to know what sort of horror Piers has had to face. He sets his lo mein aside and climbs to his feet, moving to sit beside the younger boy.

"You know, I have a fridge that works perfectly," he says. "If you can't finish it, save it for later. If you don't want it, there's a stray cat that loves it when we feed her leftovers."

Piers rakes his fork over the shrimp fried rice several times. "You won't get mad?"

"Pinky promise," Max confirms, extending his pinky. "And those are sacred."

Piers hesitates. His thin lips tug into a frown. Finally, he lifts his hand and hooks his pinky with Max's.

He doesn't know what he's doing, and it seems like Piers is just as confused. Still, somehow they're going to make it through this. Piers is family, and he _needs _someone. Max will make damn sure he doesn't fail his little cousin.

iii.

The greatest relief is that Piers doesn't have to change schools. Max hates paperwork more than anything else in this world, and he might have lost his mind if he had to fill it out.

"I bet you have lots of friends, huh?" Max says cheerfully as he they sit in a traffic jam just outside the school.

Piers shakes his head. Really, Max isn't surprised, but it still hurts his heart.

"There's Dudley," Piers says. "He has friends, so I guess they're my friends too."

"You should invite Dudley over one day," Max tells him. "I'd love to meet him."

His little cousin nods but doesn't say anything. He just rests his cheek against the window as the car moves along at a snail's pace.

Max checks his watch, frowning. He only has twenty minutes to get to work. Traffic is backed up, but the school isn't too far. In the back of his mind, he thinks that Piers could easily walk the rest of the way and make it in time.

He shakes his head. Piers is just a kid; he doesn't need to walk like that. Maybe Max's boss will understand. They're still trying to figure things out and learn what's best, what's not. It isn't going to be easy, and they won't be able to do it overnight. His boss will have to understand.

"Did I do something wrong?" Piers asks, voice barely above a whisper.

Max offers him a smile. "What? Of course not. Why would you think that?"

"You look upset."

"I'm not. I promise. I'm just thinking, okay?"

Piers nods, but he doesn't look quite convinced. Still, he settles back into his seat. "Dudley walks me home from school," he tells Max. "You don't have to worry about picking me up."

Max purses his lips and considers this. It's a fairly long walk back to their house on Magnolia Crescent. He remembers making similar journeys himself, but never that young. His lips tug into a deep frown. His aunt and uncle really hadn't cared much about Piers.

"Are you sure?" he asks. "I'll be at work, but I can give you money for the bus."

Piers shakes his head. "I like walking with Dudley," he assures him. "He just lives on Privet."

Max is familiar enough with the area. It's rather nice, and that sets his mind at ease. If Dudley lives on Privet Drive, he must be a good kid. "If you're sure. Just be safe, okay? And you have the store's number if you need someone, yeah?"

Piers nods and offers him a toothy smile. Chest aching, Max realizes it's the first time he's seen Piers smile since he had come to stay. The smile fades in an instant, and Piers leans against the window again, staring out. He does this a lot. It will seem like maybe he's going to open up, and they're going to be a family, and then he closes off again, and Max is left wondering.

Traffic begins to move. Max checks his watch again, and it takes every ounce of control not to swear. He's five minutes late.

His boss will understand; he _has _to understand.

They move more steadily now, and the jam seems to be over. "Have a good day," he says when they reach the school.

Piers nods and hops out, holding onto his books. He hesitates for a moment, like there's something he wants to say. Several seconds pass, and, lins pressed into a thin line, he just nods again and shuts the door before walking off and disappearing into the sea of students.

…

He's nearly an hour late when he finally reaches the deli. "You're late, Polkiss," Mr. Lewis says sternly.

Max tries to explain. He'd already told his boss about adopting his cousin. Surely it will be okay. Mr. Lewis is a father; he has to relate to the hassle of dropping a kid off at school.

But the older man doesn't offer him even the smallest hint of sympathy. "How am I supposed to run a business if my employee can't even make it on time?"

"This is my first offense…"

"And it's your last. Get out of here. Go."

Max wants to protest, but he knows his words would fall on deaf ears. Head spinning and a lump in his throat, he takes off his apron, hangs his head, and walks away.

…

Three different newspapers are spread across the cluttered dining room table, classified ads open. Red lines cut through the help wanted ads that don't apply to him or that have lead to dead ends.

He pauses and makes his way to the kitchen just as his timer goes off. After putting oven mitts on, he pulls out the tray of cookies. His stomach is in knots, and he can't even _think _about eating without wanting to throw up, but baking is so soothing. He's baked three batches so far, and he still has enough for another. Maybe he'll wait until Piers gets home.

Max winces. Thinking about his little cousin is like a stab of guilt to the gut. He's only been a guardian for a few days, and he's already failed.

He shakes his head. No. He has the feeling Piers has been let down by adults his whole life. Max will not add his name to that list. This is just a bump in the road, and he will get past it. Besides, he has a little money set aside; it's his fund for the bakery he wants to open, but if he has to use it to keep them afloat, so be it.

The front door opens, and Max composes himself. He can't just break down and drown in his misery. As he's had to do so many times before, he has to be strong.

"Hey, kid," he says as Piers makes his way into the kitchen.

Piers frowns. "You should be at work," he says, dark brows knitting together in confusion.

Max feels his insides tighten again. His lips quirk, and he tries his best for a smile. Honesty is the best policy, he decides. "Well, I…" He takes a deep breath. "I lost my job today."

Piers' dark eyes widen. He wrings his hands and, biting his lip. For several moments, he doesn't speak, but Max can see the anxiety clearly written all over his face. "It's because of me, isn't it?"

Max kneels down so that he and Piers are eye to eye. "No. And don't you dare try to blame yourself, okay?" He ruffles Piers' dark hair affectionately. "You did nothing wrong. My boss was a jerk anyway."

It's true enough. Max had considered giving his notice, but then his cousin came into his life. He actually enjoyed the deli, but Mr. Lewis was too much of a hardass.

Piers sniffles and wipes his eyes, looking away. It hurts Max's heart. How many things have Piers been blamed for? Why is it so easy for him to accept something that has nothing to do with him as his fault?

"Everything is going to be okay," Max says, gently taking Piers' hands in his own. "It's just a bump in the road, got it?"

Piers nods, finally returning his attention back to Max. "Okay."

Max feels like he's already failing, like maybe he's real not cut out for this life. Still, he refuses to give up. Giving up means Piers will end up in foster care, and he'll have one more person to be disappointed in.

With a shaky smile, Max climbs to his feet. "Come on," he says. "How about some cookies?"

iv.

It takes him nearly two months to find a job. Bills come, and it kills him to watch his bakery fund drain. Still, he knows it's necessary because it will keep Piers safe.

His new job at the coffee shop isn't so bad. Sometimes guys smile at him, and he flirts and gets numbers. Nothing ever comes of it. After Jeremy, he's too bloody terrified to try again. He's a single parent now, and no one wants to take on that responsibility, so he stops trying.

But it doesn't matter. He has a job to make money, not to find romance. There are more pressing matters than being single.

…

"You said you're gay," Piers says, looking up from his homework.

Max exhales deeply. It's been a long day, and he doesn't want to talk about himself or who he's attracted to, but he doesn't know how to say no. Instead, despite working a double shift and aching all the way to his bones, he offers his cousin his brightest smile. "That's right," he confirms, hoping it will be the end of it.

But Piers is too curious; Max supposes he should nurture that. The greatest minds are curious.

Lips pursing, Piers sets his pencil aside. His eyes narrow as he studies Max like he's the most interesting thing in the room. "Then how come you never have a boyfriend?" he asks. "You gotta have a boyfriend to be gay, don't you?"

Max can't help but chuckle at that. He shakes his head, dark curls thumping against his ears. "Nope. Being single doesn't make me any less gay," he assures him. "You just have to be attracted to men to be gay."

Piers folds his scrawny arms over his chest, clearly not satisfied. "How come you never have a boyfriend?" he repeats.

"Maybe I don't need one," Max says. "Relationships are complicated. They may look all nice and perfect on the outside, but inside… it's like when fairy lights get all tangled and knotted after they've been in storage. It takes work and energy and effort to keep things all nice and neat." He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "I'm not sure that I can give that anymore."

Piers considers this in silence for several seconds. He picks his pencil open again and focuses on his homework. For nearly a minute, the only sound is that of the pencil lead scratching against the paper. Silence again. Piers looks up. "I think it would be cool," he says, nodding. "You should get a boyfriend."

Max laughs, unable to resist a grin. He gets up and moves closer, pressing a kiss to the top of his cousin's head. Piers lifts a hand to his head, confusion clear in his brown eyes. He still has trouble reacting to affection, but he's made progress. He lowers his hand again and resumes working.

Max reaches into his jacket pocket, looking at the number he had gotten earlier. It's one he's gotten at least every other day for the past two weeks, always neatly written in elegant cursive that borders on calligraphy.

He closes his eyes. It feels like he gave Jeremy everything, and he really doesn't think it would hurt. Still, maybe there's hope. It doesn't hurt to try.

"I'll be right back," he says.

Away from listening ears, he picks up the phone in the living room and punches in the number. By now, he thinks he should have it memorized. The phone rings, and he holds his breath.

"Hello?"

"Um… Hi. Is this Adam?"

"Yes. Who's speaking?"

Max swallows dryly. "Max Polkiss," he answers. "I work at the coffee shop on Bateman. You left your number."

There's a chuckle, and he takes that as a good sign. "Quite a few times," Adam says, amusement in his deep voice. "I was beginning to worry I was wasting napkins."

Max shakes his head. It takes a few seconds to remember that he's on the phone and Adam can't actually see him. "Yeah, no… I just… I didn't think I was looking for anything," he admits.

"I'm glad you changed your mind."

…

Adam is handsome with his dark skin and brown eyes and brilliant smile. More than that, he is kind and wonderful, and it is so easy for Max to fall.

It starts with lunch together on Max's break, where Adam talks about university and how he's so close to being a teacher, and Max talks about his dreams of opening a bakery. Lunch becomes a regular thing, and they slowly grow from strangers to friends to something more. He doesn't even mind that Max has Piers; Adam has always loved kids, and it's one of the reasons he wants to become a teacher.

When Adam finally meets Piers, Max is nervous. It all feels too good to be true, and he just knows this this is where his dream will die.

"You must be Piers," Adam says, offering Piers the brightest smile as he reaches in his coat pocket and pulls out a comic book. "Do you like The Hulk?"

And that's when Max finally relaxes and returns to the kitchen. Everything is going to be okay. Somehow, though it still feels like the odds are stacked against him, he thinks that maybe he can find a way to have it all.

Adam comes into the kitchen, walking up behind him. His lips graze Max's neck. "Cute kid," he says. "Is he always that shy?"

Max shivers at the intimate kiss. He clears his throat, forcing his attention back to the chicken pasta. "Yeah," he answers. "I told you a bit about his past."

"Ah. Yeah," Adam says, sighing. "Poor kid. He seems so sweet."

Max smiles. Piers has come a long way from the painfully shy boy who couldn't meet his eye. "He is," he says. "One of the greatest kids ever. Do you mind grabbing the plates? They're in the cabinet over the microwave."

Somehow, he just knows that things are finally looking up.

v.

The little house on Magnolia Crescent is quiet. Max opens his eyes after basking in the silence. He sits up, stretching and yawning. Adam isn't beside him and bed, and, for a moment, panic grips him.

Then he hears the giggle downstairs and smells the sweet smell of waffles mixing with the warm smell of bacon. With a smile, Max gets out of bed and pulls on clean clothes. It's been two months since he and Adam started dating. He wonders if it's too soon for him to sleep over, if it will somehow affect Piers. It's too late now, and he hates himself for being so careless.

Nothing he can do about it.

He hurries downstairs. Adam is at the stove, frying up more bacon. Piers sits at the table, a new comic set aside, and a plate of waffles and bacon before him.

"Made some coffee," Adam calls. "Not as good as the shop's, I'm afraid."

Max laughs and makes his way to the coffee pot. He pours himself a cup. "Don't worry," he says. "I'd rather have black coffee than a fancy latte."

Adam grins. "Good. I can't make fancy lattes. What I can make, however," he says, opening the waffle iron, "are some damn good waffles."

Max moves closer, kissing him quickly on the cheek. He looks at the perfectly golden-brown waffle. "You didn't have to do this," he says.

"I _wanted _to," his boyfriend insists, preparing a plate. "And I was thinking, maybe we can go to zoo after breakfast, since it's your day off."

Max accepts the plate. "The zoo sounds amazing."

…

There is a part of him that is still scared. Max doesn't even realize it until they're at the zoo, watching the baby elephants play. Piers stands so close to Adam, grinning up at him and talking to him so animatedly. It's so rare to see Piers look happy, let alone downright excited.

And it all can be taken away. He had been so in love with Jeremy, and that ended in flames. What's to stop Adam from changing his mind? It's not like there's anything special about Max. He's just another barista with dreams too big to ever achieve.

He feels a gentle nudge against his shoulder. Adam pulls him out of his thoughts and back to reality. "I'm sorry. What?"

"I asked if you wanted some ice cream," Adam answers.

"Can we get some?" Piers asks. "Please, Max? Please?"

"Don't beg. You aren't a dog," Max chuckles. "I think ice cream sounds wonderful."

He doesn't want to think about the future. Right now, he has everything he could ever want, and that's all that matters.


End file.
